After Hayashi had rested enough, he picked up his shuriken once more.
Throwing shuriken was simple in theory, but hitting the mark with precision required relentless practice.
Hayashi was already skilled enough to consistently strike his targets with several shuriken at once.
He gripped ten shuriken, five in each hand, and hurled them in quick succession. The blades whistled through the air, embedding themselves into the bullseye fifty meters away with remarkable accuracy.
Taking a steadying breath, Hayashi readied another ten. He studied the target for a few seconds, then launched five from his right hand. Immediately after, he released the other five even faster, causing them to catch up to the first volley.
Sparks burst as the shuriken clashed midair before embedding themselves into the target almost simultaneously.
"Phew…" Hayashi exhaled, eyes gleaming.
"That was awesome."
The movement, the timing, the precision—it all felt exhilarating. Of course, not every throw had been perfect. Two of the shuriken had gone off course. Still, his skill was steadily improving.
With his current mastery in throwing techniques, Hayashi quickly realized the problem—the force from his right hand had been slightly uneven.
'Is it because I'm still…'
He cut off his own thought, shaking his head.
'No way. I'm only five years old!'
The system didn't reply, leaving him in silence.
Hayashi continued to train for hours. His technique with shuriken grew sharper, the control over his angles and force more refined. Eventually, he switched to kunai.
The scroll left behind by Uchiha Kagami came to mind. Kunai were typically melee weapons, unlike shuriken or senbon which were designed for ranged combat. However, the Uchiha clan had created a unique throwing style—using the clash of kunai midair to change their direction.
It was a deceptive technique, one that even seasoned shinobi could fall for.
Hayashi imagined combining it with the Flying Thunder God Technique one day, and his heart raced with excitement.
Fueled by determination, he trained late into the afternoon, earning another thirty ninja points in the process.
[Host remaining ninja points: 1240]
Finally satisfied, Hayashi decided to head home. On the way, he glanced around but noticed the usual group of troublemakers was gone. They must have already left.
'That's a shame. I wanted to test my kunai throwing on someone.'
Disappointed, he walked on alone. But tomorrow, the Ninja Academy would officially begin, and Hayashi couldn't help but feel eager. It was the first true step toward becoming a shinobi.
The night air was cool, the streets alive with people enjoying a rare moment of peace. For a fleeting second, Hayashi felt it too. Peace was fragile, yet beautiful.
As he passed through the bustling commercial district, the aroma of freshly made ramen caught his attention. A line had formed in front of a shop with red lanterns swaying gently outside.
Ichiraku Ramen.
Hayashi's stomach growled, and he smiled faintly.
'Tonight, I'll finally eat something good. Better than burnt bento or instant noodles with salt water, at least.'
Patting the coupon in his pocket, he joined the line. By the time it was his turn, sleep was tugging at his eyes.
"Uncle, two large bowls of tonkotsu ramen, please!" Hayashi called out.
"Coming right up!" The shop owner replied warmly.
The Ichiraku Ramen owner wasn't the legendary Teuchi everyone would one day know. Teuchi was only a ten-year-old boy now, still growing into the man who would become a legend.
"Teuchi, hurry up and serve the ramen!" boomed a deep voice from the back.
Hayashi raised a brow. 'That roar… is this the legendary Lion's Roar Technique?'
"Yes, Dad!" Teuchi hurried over with steaming bowls of ramen, placing them carefully before Hayashi.
"Huh? It's you again," Teuchi said, recognizing him instantly. "Can you really finish all this by yourself?"
Hayashi's face twitched.
Why the "little brother" tone? Just because you're a few years older doesn't mean you can bully me with words.
"Yes! I'll finish it all," Hayashi said firmly.
"I'll be watching you." Teuchi smirked.
Hayashi sighed inwardly.
But as soon as he took the first bite, all irritation melted away. The broth was rich, the noodles perfect.
"This is amazing," Hayashi muttered between mouthfuls.
"Did you make this, Teuchi?" he asked curiously.
"Yeah… though it's not quite as good as my dad's."
"Still, you're incredible," Hayashi said honestly.
Teuchi turned red and waved his hands. "No, no, it's nothing special."
Hayashi leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Be honest. Is there something special added to this? Every time I eat here, I feel like my chakra recovers faster."
Teuchi froze, sweating nervously. "N-No! Nothing like that."
"Oh, come on. You can't fool me!" Hayashi pressed.
"There really isn't!" Teuchi stammered, his face now crimson.
"Then why do I always feel so bloated afterward?" Hayashi asked.
"Because you eat too much!" Teuchi shot back instantly.
Hayashi squinted at him suspiciously. "You're not ordinary, Teuchi…"
The boy quickly ran to his father, whispering, "Dad, that kid might have figured out our ramen's secret recipe!"
___